


Where Life is Cheap

by magnumopustron



Category: World of Warcraft
Genre: Explicit Sexual Content, Forced Prostitution, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Multi, Underage Prostitution
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-06-09
Updated: 2015-04-01
Packaged: 2018-02-04 02:15:53
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con, Underage
Chapters: 5
Words: 15,400
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1762699
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/magnumopustron/pseuds/magnumopustron
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A boy awakes in Booty Bay with no memory of his name or past. Now he must survive as he struggles to reclaim his true identity and his freedom from a man determined to punish him for past ills.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

Chapter One: A Boy Named Andrew

He groaned as he shifted, his limbs feeling leaden. His eyes burned against the bright light threatening to singe its way through them. Sharp cries overhead assaulted his ears along with the clanging of a bell. Add to that, the back of his leg was stinging and itchy.

“Hey kid!” Something poked him. “You alive?”

He was trying to tell them to leave him alone, but his throat was dry.

“Hey! Kid, wake up!” He was shoved, causing him to groan again and open his eyes, blinking against the obscenely bright daylight. He wiped at his eyes, sitting up, then groaned at his headache.

The person who'd shoved him was a sharp eyed goblin. He glanced up to see seagulls wheeling overhead. Breathing in the smell of sea air, he sat up, yawning. His limbs still felt incredibly heavy.

“You gonna make it, squirt?”

The boy laughed softly. He slowly pushed himself up into a proper sitting position.

“You speak Common, right?” The goblin waved his hands around. He was bald, wearing a white shirt, brown pants, and black boots. On his fingers were several gold rings and he had a cigar clamped in his teeth. The boy nodded, his straw colored hair nearly falling over his eyes. His blue headband was dirty, the goblin noticed.

“Yes. I...” He blinked as he realized he didn't remember anything. He didn't remember the night before. He didn't remember anything before waking up here. As he looked himself over – he wore a grungy white shirt and torn blue pants - it occurred to him that he didn't even remember his own name. He stared emptily at the goblin.

“I'm Jinx Blastwrench,” the goblin told him as he was hauled to his feet. The boy wobbled slightly before finding his balance. “Whoa! Watch out! You're not gonna puke are ya?”

“No,” he smiled. “Just... I'm feeling kind of weak.” Something told him not to admit such a thing to a goblin, but this one didn't seem bad, even if he did have knives tucked into his belt. Jinx Blastwrench held his cigar between his fingers thoughtfully, even though it wasn't even lit, then clamped it back in his teeth.

“Listen kid. It ain't my business to tell ya how to live your life. And I ain't tryin' a preach, ya know?” the goblin laughed, causing the boy to smile again. “But you can't be just uh, wakin up like this, okay? Somebody's liable to take advantage of ya.”

“Oh... Well, ” he rubbed the back of his neck, glancing around. “Um...”

“What's wrong, kid?” Jinx's eyes flicked around as well, though he didn't turn his head. “You on the run from somebody?”

“No... I mean, I don't know,” he winced and reached down to scratch his leg which was still bothering him. “I don't think so.”

The goblin lifted a brow. “What?”

“I don't remember anything,” he admitted, blushing. Jinx's eyes widened.

“You don't remember _anything_ about last night? Jeez kid!” He began to laugh, smacking at his own knee. “I sure hope you ain't drinkin' any of that gob moonshine!”

“No, I mean, I don't remember anything at all,” his blue eyes showed a tinge of panic. He didn't know why he was telling Jinx this. He barely knew the goblin, but Jinx seemed to care, and his own panic was growing by the second.

“I don't remember who I _am_.” He couldn't remember his own age! What did he even look like? He was blonde... right?

The boy turned, looking around desperately, until he saw a barrel of water. He hurried over it to peer at his reflection on the surface. He was towheaded with blue eyes, although it was hard to tell the exact shade in the dark reflection, and he had freckles. He had a square jaw with a small chin. The chin seemed pretty important for some reason.

'I look more like my mother.' The thought was unbidden and he grasped it desperately. He turned to see Jinx staring at him still.

“I look more like my mother!” he said aloud. “That's some...” He realized how absurd he must have sounded and blushed again, looking down at his feet. A bell clanged, causing him to jolt slightly and look around. He felt very unsafe out in the open like this.

“Hey kid... how about we get outta the way, okay? Here,” Jinx motioned him along. “C'mon!”

After a moment's hesitation, the boy followed. He didn't know what else to do, after all. His head turned almost frantically as they walked along, reminding Jinx of a Forsaken, as if the blue eyes couldn't get enough of what they were seeing.

“You don't remember any o this, kid?” Jinx gestured around. “Nothin' looks familiar?”

“No,” the boy murmured, gazing up at a tauren they passed. Then his blue eyes were blinking out at the bright daylight over the water. He was in awe of his surroundings as he followed the goblin. This was such an odd town. What was it called? Booty Bay? He'd heard of it somewhere before.

“This is Booty Bay, right?” he asked the goblin. Jinx nodded.

“It sure is, kid. It sure is.”

He smiled as they entered a wooden building made to look like a ship. Or perhaps it actually was a ship once? The boy thought he wouldn't be surprised. This whole town looked to be made of parts of ships. He decided he liked it. He liked the sound of the waves slapping against the dock posts and the clanging of the bells. Even the seagulls' cries had gotten better. His head was aching and he still felt weak, but as he followed Jinx into the dark building, he almost felt fine.

He stopped for a moment to lift his leg and scratch the back of it – it was still itching. It took a moment for his eyes to adjust to the dim light inside the building, but he continued to follow the goblin. They came to a table at last and Jinx hopped up onto a bench, patting the table.

“Sit down, kid! How's about we get you some water, okay?”

“Thank you,” he told the goblin, sitting down almost primly on the bench. Jinx watched with amusement as the boy put his hands in his lap and sat with a tall, straight posture. What kind of kid was this anyway? “Hey, you sure you're not on the run from somebody?”

The boy frowned. “I really don't know. I wish I did.”

“Hmm... you remember _anythin'_? Like somebody close to you? Family, friends...?”

The blonde brows furrowed in thought. Images raced through the boy's head, but they were all fleeting and he couldn't seem to grasp on to any. Familiar faces? Family...

A man with dark hair and fierce eyes. He gasped at the image. The man had a deep scar across his face, over his nose.

“What is it?” Jinx asked, waving a bar man over.

“I think... I remember a man. With lots of dark hair. In a horsetail...” the boy's eyes were far off, then he licked his lips. “I'm not sure who he is though...” The blue eyes grew sorrowful and he looked up at Jinx. “I can't remember.”

“What'll it be?” the bar man, a goblin shorter than Jinx barked.

“Just some water for the kid and me.”

“Water? Jeez!” The other goblin rolled his eyes and headed back toward the bar. “You want a _salad_ to go with that water?”

“Nah, just some air,” Jinx huffed. “Actually, you hungry kid?” The boy frowned, putting a hand to his stomach. Then he patted his pants, searching his waist for a money pouch or anything. His blue eyes gazed earnestly into Jinx's.

“I don't have any money.”

“Ahh, it's all right-”

“No! Please... I can't accept charity.”

“Yeah, yeah. Heya! Bring me and the kid a sandwich!” Jinx turned to yell at the barman.

“No,” the boy waved his hands in protest. "Don't, really-"

“What kinda sandwich?" The bar tender glared at Jinx.

“Uh... make it a ham and- you like ham, don't ya, kid?” The boy was still shaking his head so Jinx grinned. “Ham and some cheese! Any kinda cheese.”

The bar tender grumbled about people not being able to complain if they weren't specific, but Jinx ignored him. Their water was brought a few moments later.

“The sandwiches are gonna take a while! I gotta get the cheese outta the back!”

“We ain't goin anywhere, are we kid?”

“No,” the boy was blushing.

“I said don't worry about it, kid,” Jinx grumbled, taking his cigar out of his mouth again. “Look, maybe somebody's lookin' for ya, okay? I'll help ya figure stuff out and you can reward me later.” He grinned. “Maybe you're some kinda rich heir or somethin' huh?”

The boy chuckled weakly. “Sure.” He motioned to his own clothes. “Look at me. I can't be heir to anything more than a pile of dirt.”

His clothes were ragged and his feet were bare. Jinx shrugged.

“It ain't no big deal. I started out a mess too. Anyway, you clearly got eh... whatsit called...” The boy blinked. “Am...Amnesty. Nah that ain't it. Am...Ameny...Amnesia! That's it. Yous got amnesia.”

“I guess you're right,” the boy's shoulders sagged.

“It's all right. 'Least you're still young and good lookin' right?”

The boy snorted. “Young maybe.”

“Ah, don't be so harsh on yourself! You ain't bad lookin at all!”

“If only my looks would help me remember who I am.”

“Well maybe all ya need is a proper mirror!” Jinx turned to yell at the barman again. “Heya you got a mirror over there?”

“What does this look like, a salon?” the bartender shouted back. “Jeez, water and sandwiches and now you want a mirror! Next you'll be wantin me to cut the kid's hair or somethin'!”

The boy put his hands to his head. “I don't want my hair cut.”

“Haha, he ain't cuttin' your hair, kid. No worries. Look, we gotta call you somethin okay? You sure you can't remember your name?” Jinx gave him a skeptical look, crossing his arms over his chest. The boy shook his head.

“An...” He frowned, staring at the table. “And..”

“Andy?”

“I don't...”

“Andrew?”

The boy's frown deepened and he shook his head. "I don't think so."

“Drink some of your water.” Jinx pushed the mug toward him, then picked up his own mug to take a long sip. The boy sighed and obeyed, finding the water satisfying. He gulped deeply and sighed.

"That helpin any?” The boy shook his head. “Well look, how about we just call you Andrew for now? Or how about Andy?”

That garnered a smile and a sheepish shrug. “Either's fine, I guess.”

“Andrew's good, right? Sounds uh, elegant.”

“Sure,” the boy's smile widened.

“You could be a real king with a name like that!”

A king. Andrew's eyes widened. The man with the dark hair.

“What is it, kid?” Jinx straightened at his look. Andrew shook his head.

“Nothing. I thought I remembered something.”

“What?”

“A man with dark hair.”

“Huh. Maybe he's somebody ya know. Your old man, maybe?”

The blue eyes squinted. “I wish I knew.”

While they ate their sandwiches, the newly dubbed Andrew listened to Jinx talk about his business in Booty Bay.

“You can come see my cousin Gryx's shop. He's got a real engineering shop right here. Best of it's kind, I say.”

“I'd love to,” the boy said before biting down again. Jinx stopped to watch the small bites the boy took. “What is it?”

“Nothin,” Jinx chuckled and shook his head. “I'd be real surprised if you ain't some kinda noble kid or somethin'. You sure you ain't running from nobody?”

Andrew laughed. “You keep saying that! Why do you think I'm a noble?” He swallowed then took another bite of his sandwich. Jinx shrugged, finishing his own off and sucking the remainder from his fingers.

“I'm just sayin' you talk real nice. And you're sittin all straight like you're at some kinda fancy dinner.”

The blue eyes crinkled pleasantly into a smile. “Fancy, huh?”

“Yeah,” Jinx grinned, sticking his cigar in his teeth again. “Maybe one of those Stormwind types.”

“Stormwind...” the boy murmured to himself as he chewed. “Maybe so.”

“That joggin your memory?” Andrew shook his head, looking disappointed.

“I wish. What do I do if my memory doesn't come back?”

“Ah no biggie. You can come see my cousin's shop! Me and Gryx got a good thing goin'. Maybe you can help us out at the shop 'til you remember who you are.”

Andrew's brows rose in surprise.

"Really?"

"Sure! I 'spect Gryx could always use some help," Jynx snorted. "Even if he don't admit it!"

Andrew smiled. He liked the sound of working in an engineer's shop. Something about mechanical things sounded interesting and maybe working on them would help his memory come back?


	2. Employment in Booty Bay

Jinx lead him up a ramp to a shop on the second floor of a small wooden building. He had to duck as he entered. Looking around, he found himself in a dimly lit room lined by tables covered in machines that were in various states of disarray. The floor was littered with screws, bits of wire, and tools. There seemed to be a film of grease over everything.

“HEY!” Another goblin shouted as they entered. “There you are, ya moron! I been lookin all over for ya!” He adjusted a pair of small, circular glasses despite that they were strapped to his head.

“Who you callin moron? Hey look what I found! This kid's a real noble or somethin.”

“We don't know that,” Andrew started to protest, but Jinx waved a hand at him dismissively.

“He don't look noble,” the goblin in the shop raised his eyebrows and stuck out his lower lip as he glanced over Andrew's clothes. The boy blushed, his bare toes curling under as if to hide from sight.

“Yeah well he lost his memory, see?”

“Oh I see...” the goblin Andrew assumed to be Jinx's cousin Gryx grabbed Jinx's shoulder and shook him. “What's the matter with you, huh? You believe some kid and bring 'im in my shop? What's this look like, a charity?”

“He ain't no charity case!” Jinx shoved his cousin who stumbled slightly. “He's got amnesty!”

“What?”

“Amnesia!”

“Yeah, yeah, I bet he does...” Gryx stomped up to Andrew and glared up at him. The boy actually leaned back slightly as if cringing. Jinx grinned.

“Talk to him! He's a real charming kid! Talks all rich like. I bet somebody's lookin for him!”

“Yeah, yeah...” Gryx narrowed his eyes at Andrew. “Talk!”

“Um... Hello.”

“Oh wowee, he's _real_ eloquent-”

“Ah, shut up! Ya didn't give him a real chance!” Jinx shouted his cousin down.

“Bah!” Gryx waved his hands. “I ain't got time for this!” He turned around and stomped over to a table, picking up a wrench and waving it at Jinx. “And neither do you!”

“Well I figure he can help around the shop at any rate!”

“I ain't got money for no employees! And he looks like he eats a lot!”

“Hey,” Andrew protested, frowning down at his body. He didn't think he looked fat.

“You're _tall_ , dumbo.”

“Aw, don't call him names. Poor kid. And yeah he's tall, he's a humie.”

“Humie?” Gryx wrinkled his nose. “The fel's the matter with you, huh? This ain't a puppy!”

“Look, I figure we find whoever's lookin for him, they'll show up and be real grateful we took him in!”

“Oh, I see,” Andrew smiled, crossing his arms over his chest. “That's why you're so charitable.”

“Well yeah!” Jinx lifted a brow, putting a hand on his hip. “I already told ya that earlier!”

“He is a dumbo.” Gryx giggled, then pointed to his cousin. “And so are you! That boy ain't no noble. He don't belong to _nobody_. Look at 'im!”

Andrew frowned down at his bare feet. It sounded like Gryx was right.

“I can help in your shop,” he said hopefully.

“Aw, look at them big blue eyes,” Jinx grinned. “You can't throw him out!”

“I sure can!” Gryx scowled up at Andrew. “You know anythin' about engineering?”

“Um...” Andrew walked over to the table Gryx had picked up his wrench from. “I think so.”

“I dunno...” the goblin followed him, grumbling. “You sound like you ain't sure about it!”

“I can learn!”

“Ha!” Gryx huffed, then looked at Jinx. “Ha!”

“Aw, give 'im a chance.”

“I already gave him a chance. He's a dumbo.”

The boy smiled. “I can help clean!”

“Oh yeah? You can clean huh?”

The boy nodded. “And I can cook.”

“Oh you can huh? I thought you had amnesia!” Gryx snapped.

“You're the dumbo now!” Jinx laughed, slapping his knee. “Amnesia don't mean you can't do stuff! It means you can't remember.”

“How's that supposed ta work?”

While the two goblins carried on their argument, Andrew began to look around. The shop had potential but it was very messy and he found himself wondering what exactly the shop offered.

“Do you sell things or do you sell services?” he asked Gryx who glared at him.

“What, are you a business consultant now?”

“Hey, he asked a real question,” Jinx said.

“I'm just saying, I don't see anything for sale.”

“That's cause it's a mechanic shop, genius! We repair stuff, jeez!”

Andrew nodded. “But it's a mess. How can you even find anything in here?”

“I know where it all is,” Gryx grumbled, crossing his arms over his chest. “What, you think you can do better?”

“I think I could help you get it in shape.”

“Oh yeah? Let's see then!”

 

A few hours later, they were all a little more greasy – especially Andrew – but the shop was looking a lot more organized.

“Hey, I'm hungry!” Jinx groused.

“You're always stuffin your face!”

“What's with all the noise in here?” A goblin woman came down a set of stairs in the corner of the shop. She had brown hair tied up with a tropical flower stuck into it and her outfit was a simple shirt tied in the front above her navel and a pair of short pants. She wore sandals and her fingers glittered with rings.

“Heya toots!” Gryx said. “Wanna get us somethin to eat?”

“Get it yourself!” she grumbled, then gave Andrew a puzzled look. “What's with the kid?”

“This is Andrew.” Jinx patted him on the arm. “He's our new uh, shop assistant!”

“Assistant my ass,” Gryx grumbled. Jinx kicked at him.

“He's helpin us organize the shop-”

“Total waste o time.”

“Will you shut up?”

“No _you_ shut up! This is my shop!”

“This is OUR shop! I helped you-”

“Aw, jeez will both of you shaddap!” the goblin woman shouted, rubbing her forehead. “Ya both givin' me a headache.”

“This is Pearl, Andrew. Andrew, Pearl. Pearl, Andrew.”

“Hello Pearl.”

“Uh, hey kid.” She waved, wiggling her fingers, though she didn't smile. Her glare turned to Gryx. “It's about time you mooks cleaned up this hole. I was just comin down to tell ya that I'm goin to the bar.”

“Aww baby, wait fa me!” Gryx dropped the pile of odds and ends he was carrying on the floor, causing a sputter of protest from Andrew, and began clambering up the stairs after her.

“Ugh, no way! You need to take a shower before you go anywhere.”

As the two of them disappeared upstairs, Andrew smiled a little to Jinx.

“You hungry, kid?”

“You bet!”

 

It turned out that the boat inn they'd been to earlier was known as the Salty Sailor Tavern. Andrew decided he really liked it. Not only was it formerly a ship, but there were all kinds of people from all over Azeroth in it – not just goblins and men, but dwarves, tauren, elves, and even Forsaken. It smelled of delicious fried food and now that it was closer to evening, it seemed everyone was in a good mood.

There was a clanging sound just as he and Jinx were eating their food and the goblin's eyes widened.

“Oh boy! Know what that means, right?”

“Um, nope,” the boy shook his head.

“The ships are comin in, kid! And that means this place is gonna get full!” He winked at Andrew, picking up his mug of ale and taking a gulp. “Just watch.”

“All right...” Andrew laughed softly, wondering just what he was going to see.

 

Within about twenty minutes, the inn was packed with people. Andrew looked around in awe, almost positive that whatever his life had been like before he'd lost his memory, he'd never seen anything like this.

There were all kinds of people and they were everywhere. All the tables were full with sailors wearing colors of nearly every nation. He even saw a man and a woman wearing tabards from Gilneas as they chatted over mugs of ale.

He looked over at a table nearby and found himself watching as an orc and a human man arm wrestled. The orc and his friends were looking shocked as the human man laughed and began to press his arm back. One orc whooped and clapped.

Andrew grinned and nearly stood up off his stool as he watched. Jinx was whirling a fist in the air and cheering.

The man's friends cheered and clapped him on the back as he shoved the orc's hand down. The men were wearing similar tabards as if they were from a military company.

“How about them apples, huh kid? That ain't even the wildest stuff ya see here!” Jinx told the boy. But he found that Andrew was staring at the man still.

The man was dark haired, swarthy, with a neatly trimmed beard. His hair fell to his shoulders and his eyes were dark as well. As Andrew stared, the man happened to look over at him as he was lifting a bottle to his lips, and for a moment, their eyes met. The man set the bottle down slowly, looking him over, and smiled.

Just then, he had an image of another man. No, someone younger, like himself, dark like the stranger arm wrestling, but with eyes that glowed red and a smooth face. There was something white on the other boy's head but...

Andrew blushed, blinking, and looked away.

“Hey kid, what is it?” Jinx frowned.

“Nothing,” he smiled. He glanced up again and the man was smiling at him. Then he winked.

Andrew's eyes widened and he laughed softly, looking away.

“Huh?” Jinx glanced between the two of them, then it seemed to strike him. “Oh jeez. Look, you wanna stay away from that guy, all right?”

“What?” The boy blushed even more brightly. “I'm not... I mean I was just-”

“Yeah, yeah I gotcha. Look, I'm just sayin.' He's not a nice guy, okay? Trust me.”

“Who is he?” Andrew glanced up toward the man again but found him chatting with his friends now.

“If he is who I think he is then we better get outta here.”

“What! Why?” The boy watched as the goblin quickly downed the rest of his drink and stumbled up from his seat. Andrew wanted to stay and explore the rest of the tavern, maybe go upstairs where he'd seen people head up to the roof.

“C'mon, I'll tell ya outside,” Jinx hopped up and grabbed Andrew by the arm, hauling him out of the inn. The boy glanced over again to see that the dark eyes of the man were following him, a small smirk on the man's lips. It caused a shiver up his spine and he blushed again, looking away.

He tried to picture the image of the other dark stranger that had bubbled up in his head. Tanned skin, but not by the sun, just naturally darker. Yet the whole image had seemed unnatural somehow. How could someone have glowing red eyes?

They emerged outside into the late afternoon sunlight where the goblin pulled him over to a walkway by a waterfall.

“Look kid, I don't want you to freak out or anything, but I'm pretty sure that guy is a pirate.”

“A pirate!” Andrew hissed and Jinx cursed.

“Shush! I mean I ain't sure, but those colors he's wearing – I heard they ain't up to no good.”

“Whose colors are they?”

“I ain't sure o' the name o' their outfit but I think they call themselves the Wrecking Crew. Anyway, we gotta go-”

There was a shout from inside the inn and the sound of something heavy being thrown over a table. Andrew winced.

“Heh. 'Xactly what I was talkin' about.”

An explosion seemed to issue from the inn as more shouts followed along with the sounds of glass breaking and what Andrew guessed to be fists colliding on flesh.

“RUMBLE!” someone shouted. A cry of pain followed.

“Yeah let's get outta here,” Jinx grabbed his arm and they hurried along. Goblin bruisers carrying maces and guns hurried past them.

“Why are they fighting?”

“Orcs don't take insults well,” Jinx grinned up at him. “And uh, pirates ain't exactly polite.”

“Oh...”

“Yeah...”

Andrew was quiet. He still felt odd about the look the man had given him. His stomach wobbled a little at the memory of the dark eyes burning into his. The wink the man had given him...

He followed Jinx back to the shop in a daze.

“Hey you!” Someone called. “Hey boy!”

He turned to see a sin'dorei following him.

“Do I know you?”

The elf smiled. “No, but I can remedy that quickly.” He tossed his long, reddish brown hair back, smirking, his handsome jaw marred by a long scar. “Nobody to take care of you sweetheart? I could take care of you.” He purred, stepping closer.

Andrew frowned, turning to see that Jinx was already far ahead and not noticing that he'd fallen behind.

“Um... I'm sorry?”

The elf laughed.

“No need to play coy, little one,” he grinned. Like most elven men, he was fairly handsome, and he was well dressed, wearing dark plated armor. Andrew thought he recognized the tabard the elf wore – black with a red phoenix. A blood knight.

The knight reached forward and took Andrew's hand in his, lifting it to press the knuckles to his lips. His green eyes glowed almost hungrily at Andrew, making him blush.

“I can't wait to get those rags off you.”

“Um,” he tried to pull his hand away, but the knight was stronger, tugging his hand to pull him close. His other arm gripped Andrew about the waist and he smirked as the boy raised his hands, pressing them against his plated chest.

“I don't think I've seen a prettier boy in my life. Why don't we head back inside after all the nonsense is over and I'll show you what those lovely ips of yours were made for?”

“I'm not really-” Andrew turned his face away, blushing, as the elf reached up to grip his jaw firmly.

“Mm, don't worry,” the elf chuckled against his ear. “There will be _plenty_ of gold, I promise-”

Panic was beginning to set in as Andrew felt a hand silding down to his rear.

“I'm not-”

“Hey!” he let out a sigh of relief at the sound of Jinx's voice. “You take your hands off that kid, ya scumbag!”

The elf laughed.

“Want payment right away, do we?”

“Payment?” Jinx seemed to bristle. “What are you talkin' about? Take your hands offa him before-”

The elf released Andrew with a noise of disgust. “All right, all right!” He began to reach into a coin purse. “I suppose you can't be discreet in this town!”

The boy stumbled away, glaring at the elf. He shook his head, dazed. The knight thought that he was some kind of prostitute?

“How much do you want? I'll have him for the night. I won't have you butting in.” He leered at Andrew who glared back at him. “Mm, he's good at playing feisty.”

“Pff. I ain't no pimp! You step off and keep your paws away from him!” Jinx stepped up to the blood knight, his hands moving to the knives at his belt.

“What?” The elf laughed. “This some kind of joke?”

“Do I look like I'm kiddin' ya freak?”

The boy frowned. “Wait, why did you think I'm a...?”

The elf lifted a long brow and motioned downward.

“Your tattoo.”

“What? What tattoo?” Andrew looked down, confused.

“What are you tryin to pull?” Jinx turned to look at Andrew.

“The one on his leg. The brand?” The sin'dorei pointed at Anduin's left leg.

Andrew stared, shocked that he hadn't noticed it earlier. Going vertically down the back of his leg was a series of symbols in Common, inked into his skin. His eyes widened, then his brow furrowed in confusion. Looking up at Jinx, he saw that the goblin was grimacing.

“What... what is that?”

“Oh please!” The elf laughed. “It's a nice try, but everyone _knows_ what you are, sweetheart. You can't run from debt.”

“Jeez kid...” Jinx shook his head. “You didn't have to lie.”

“I'm not lying!” Andrew cried. “I don't even know what this is! I didn't notice it until now!”

Jinx's brow furrowed as he considered the tattoo, rubbing his chin with a hand.

“I swear, I have no idea-”

“Yes yes,” the elf rolled his eyes, clinking gold in his hand. “It's all very tragic,” he made a mocking face at the boy, pouting his lips. “But don't worry. I'll give you a lot of gold for being a good boy-”

“Okay, you gotta shut up right now or I'm gonna puke,” Jinx raised his hands. “And this kid ain't goin' nowhere till I find out the truth!”

“Hey kid,” someone said behind them. Andrew turned to see two men walking up. Both were dressed in simple leather. One was bearded, the other younger with a shaved face wearing a black bandana on his head. He tensed as the bearded man grabbed the back of his shirt, nearly lifting him off the ground. “Lord Wallis been looking for you all day.”

“Time to go home,” the younger man made a kissing motion at Andrew.

Jinx raised a hand. “Hey wait a minute!”

“What do you want, goblin?” the man with the bandana stepped up. One of his hands moved to a blade at his hip.

“That kid got hit in the head or somethin'. He don't even remember 'is name!”

“Is that what he told you?” the man huffed, sneering at Andrew.

“Look, just tell me how much he owes you and... I'll figure somethin' out, okay? He's just a kid.”

“A goblin! Offering to pay for you already?” the bandana wearer crowed. “You _are_ gonna be popular!”

“Take it up with the Lord,” the bearded man told him, hauling Andrew away. “This one's coming with us now.”

“Aww,” the elf pouted mockingly, putting his gold away. “I'll see you later, pretty boy!”

Andrew struggled.

“Wait, please! I don't know what's going on!”

“Don't worry,” the smaller man laughed. “Wallis 'll explain it real clear.”

 

 


	3. Captivity

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Andrew is faced with a mysterious captor and his agenda. Meanwhile, the Black Prince and King Varian Wrynn hear startling news concerning Prince Anduin.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warnings for this chapter: Misgendering, violence, and sexual abuse of a minor. 
> 
> Also I started writing this before War Crimes came out, so that's why Wrathion is hanging out in Stormwind in this fic.

The men half dragged, half shoved him across the bay to a stone building. Andrew gave up struggling, even though his heart was pounding fiercely. The sin'dorei's words kept ringing in his ears. He felt dazed – it had all happened so quickly. First he was being flirted with by some strange man and then Jinx was telling him the man was a pirate, then they were leaving the inn and some elf was...

His stomach turned with disgust. The afternoon sunlight faded behind him as he was hauled into a building that seemed to serve as a marketplace.

The two men quickly pushed him through the market, then through a thick wooden door and up a narrow flight of stairs. After that there was a long hallway to his left with several other doors. Andrew decided to try and remember which door they went through, but he needn't have worried – it was the door all the way at the end of the hall that he was led through.

“We found him, lordship,” the bearded man said as he shoved Andrew into a room. To his left sat a man sitting on a balcony. The man turned to look at them.

“There we are,” a smooth voice greeted Andrew. He stared at the man before him uncomprehendingly as the stranger chuckled. “You slipped away just when we thought you were going to behave. Such a crafty boy."

Andrew shook his head. “Do I know you?”

“What?” The man laughed and stood, walking over to them, setting the glass of wine he was holding down on a table nearby. He looked young and relatively handsome. He wore a simple white shirt, black breeches, and black boots. On his finger was a silver ring with a stone in it. “You should be ashamed running off like that.”

The boy frowned. “I honestly don't know who you are, sir.”

The man laughed. “How convenient.”

“I'm telling you the truth,” Andrew pleaded. “I don't remember anything. I woke up outside, on the boardwalk, and I had no idea who I was or where I was.”

The man smiled at him. “Well allow me to freshen up your memory. I'm Augusten Wallis. Your father owes me a lot of money.” The two men behind Andrew chuckled. “Of course he tried to pretend he didn't owe me anything. He made the mistake of not taking me seriously.” Wallis smiled. His eyes, bright blue, were empty and made Andrew feel cold inside. “But that's fine. He and I are even now. Because I have you.”

“How much does my father owe you? Surely there's something we can work out-”

The man with the bandana laughed again. Wallis smiled and shook his head.

“Oh it's already been worked out, princess.” He leaned in, his eyes coldly regarding Andrew's. “You're going to work hard for me and earn all of that money back.”

The boy's shoulders sagged. “What kind of work can I do for you?” Another laugh from the thug behind him gave Andrew a chill. As he looked into Wallis's eyes, he began to get a very bad feeling.

The man's smile broadened. “Beauty can fetch a pretty good price in this town,” Wallis slid fingers through Andrew's hair. “Especially with such a pretty boy.”

The boy jerked his head away, his heart racing. Surely the man wasn't suggesting...

“No. I won't.”

“Is that so?” Wallis laughed softly. “What are you going to do about it, boy?”

“I'll...”

“Do you even remember who your father _is_?” Wallis smirked. “Since you said you 'Don't remember anything.'”

“I...” Andrew gasped. His lungs felt as if he couldn't get enough air suddenly. 

Wallis began to laugh. “You really don't remember do you? This is rich!”

He stared at the man, his face beginning to burn red.

“Do you even know your name, boy?”

Andrew opened his mouth to speak, then looked down.

“He doesn't even know his _own name!_ ” Wallis roared, thumping his own thigh and his thugs laughed. "This just gets better and better!"

Andrew clenched his teeth, his hands forming fists. Wallis smirked and walked over to his chair, turning it around to face away from the balcony and sitting back with a sigh. “Would you like to know your name, princess?”

Andrew remained silent. Wallis tilted his head, smirking.

“You're going to have to earn your name. Just like you have to pay back all of that money your father stole from me.”

Andrew shuddered and shook his head. His eyes became hard. “I'm not doing _anything_ for you.”

Someone behind him lunged and his hair was grabbed harshly. He yelled, kicking out, but he was punched in the stomach, causing him to groan. Wallis's chuckles reached his ears and anger bubbled inside of him as his arms were grabbed and pulled behind his back.

“You work for me now.” Wallis cooed. “And you can't go without a name, can you? I mean, who doesn't have a name? _Everyone_ has a name. Except for you.”

“What should we do with him, lordship?” the bearded man, holding the boy's arms, asked.

“I don't want him running around just yet. Put him in my room.” Wallis's lips twisted into a small smile. “I'll work on him.”

Andrew struggled as they took him to an adjoining room. He was shoved onto the floor and the younger man in the bandana kicked him in the side. He groaned, twisting and curling up, but the man in the bandana kicked him again.

“Don't break him,” the bearded man grunted, bending over to grab Andrew's arm and haul him up. He grunted in pain. They secured his wrists behind him in a pair of manacles, then shoved him down onto a bed. He tried to kick at them.

“Cut it out, boy,” the man in the bandana laughed. “I can't wait to see what Wallis does with you!” He whistled and turned. Andrew hated his stupid laughter.

“Don't fight.” The bearded man advised. “You'll just make it worse.”

Andrew sagged against the bed as they closed the door behind them. He trembled, wincing against the pain in his ribs. He couldn't even lift his shirt to look at any bruises forming. His eyes closed and he fought the tide of tears threatening to surface, refusing to give in. He cursed softly. Why was this happening to him?

* * *

 

The door opened a few minutes later, startling him. He sat up, eyes fearful in the dark. The sight of Wallis's face lit from below by a candle caused him to grit his teeth.

“Let me go!” he scrambled up. "Please... there has to be something we can work out."

Wallis laughed as he entered the room and began to light the other candles before finally setting the one he held in a sconce.

“Typical of you, Princess. Always thinking you can bargain your way out of things with pretty words. Just like your father." 

“Surely if my father is willing to bargain with you, then-"

“I told you. He refused to listen to me. That's your name now by the way - Princess.” Wallis snickered as he approached the bed. He sat on the edge of it, slowly looking over Andrew's body. “I think it suits you.” The hand with the silver ring on it slowly crept up Andrew's leg, gripping his shin.

He snarled and kicked his other leg into the man's arm. Wallis cursed and leapt on top of him, pinning his waist to the bed by straddling him.

“You're going to learn your place if I have to beat it black and blue into you.”

“Leave me alone!” Andrew shouted. His back twinged, his wrists crushed under it. “I won't do-”

Wallis slapped him. Andrew cried out, then clenched his teeth. Suddenly the man was off of him and rolling him onto his stomach.

“Stop!” Andrew shouted. Wallis was snickering as he pressed the boy down onto the bed with his weight. “Do you like that, Princess?”

“Nn...” The boy gasped under his weight, while still trying to kick him. Wallis grabbed his hair and pulled his head back, causing Andrew's neck to twinge. He winced.

“Next time, I'll use my ring hand. You don't want that do you?” Wallis huffed. “I don't want to have to hurt you. I hate to mark up that pretty face. But I will if I have to.”

The blue eyes gazed into his coldly and Andrew's lip trembled. “Understand?”

After a few moments, he nodded once.

“No more screaming. And _definitely_ no more _kicking_. Is that understood?”

“Yes,” he whispered, nodding. “Yes, sir.”

The man sneered. “Well you are one stubborn fellow, aren't you?” Wallis sat up, rubbing the hand he'd used to slap Andrew. “Hard headed.”

The boy remained quiet, glaring at the wall. His heart was pounding in his head, which was starting to hurt. Andrew wondered if his cheek was going to swell up. He tensed and looked up as Wallis rolled him onto his side, then began to rip his shirt open. The man cursed at the sight of his ribs.

“I need to tell those idiots to learn how to handle a boy better. But no worries,” he smiled at Andrew. “I'll get Gildy to put some ointment on it and it'll all be new. Right?”

Andrew just glared at him. “That's no way to look at your master, is it Princess?” Wallis smirked as he began to tug Andrew's pants down.

“What are you doing?”

Wallis rolled his eyes. “I'm getting you ready for bed. We're going to put your little pajamas on, Princess. The ones you were born with.” He grinned nastily.

“Don't touch me!”

“Mm, apparently you are a slow learner. But that's fine. That'll just make it more fun.”

His pants were yanked down, followed by his underwear. He struggled, trembling, as his body was exposed to the cool night air. Now he only had his shirt, still hanging around his arms, his chest bare. The man grinned.

“Well well well... not bad, Princess.” Andrew turned his head away, embarrassed. He tugged against his binds, unable to move his wrists. Wallis straddled him again a moment later, pushing him onto his back once more.

“I will touch you all I want,” the man growled against his ear. “Is that understood, my boy?”

Andrew shuddered, swallowing. “Fuck you.”

Wallis began to chuckle, bursting into laughter after a moment.

“Fuck _you_ ,” he whispered back, sliding a hand down and gripping Andrew's cock. The boy shouted, struggling.

“Get your hands _off of me!_ ”

“Remember what I said about no shouting,” Wallis's tone held a warning, letting go of the boy's cock and sliding his hand down to his balls, gripping them firmly and squeezing until the Andrew gasped. “I can make this feel very nice, Princess. I can make it feel good for you. Or I can make it hurt.”

Andrew clenched his teeth. Then he looked away and sobbed.

“Please. Stop.” He hated the weakness in his voice, but he was in pain.

Wallis smiled. “That's more like it. See? It's not so hard. But you're still wrong,” the man shook his head, slowly releasing Andrew's sack and sliding his hand up the boy's belly. “I can touch you whenever I like. However I like. And you say “Yes, sir” and “Thank you, sir.” You're mine, Princess.” He trailed his fingers up to a nipple, gently toying with it. “Isn't that right?”

“Yes, sir,” the boy said after a moment, breathing hard and glaring at the wall. “Good boy. We'll work on your attitude.”

* * *

 

Left and Right watched the Black Prince pace in Stormwind castle keep's war room. On the other side of the large table in the room, the King's advisors watched him pace.

What was supposed to be a pleasant surprise for the Alliance prince - a visit from his friend, Wrathion - had become terse silence as the hour of his arrival passed and he never appeared. It had been twenty four hours since he had last contacted the King via the magic mirrors Jaina had set up in the Shrine of Seven Stars for the Wrynn family's use. 

“Perhaps he went back to Pandaria?” the Black Prince stopped his pacing suddenly and looked to the King who rolled his eyes, breaking his own step.

“There's no reason for him to. He told me he'd said all of his goodbyes.”

“Maybe he forgot something?”

Varian shook his head. “This isn't right. He told me through the mirror that he was going to come home immediately.”

Wrathion sighed, his claws tapping on the table again. Suddenly, he slammed his hand down. “This is _ridiculous!_ ” He snapped. “Surely someone somewhere has heard something?”

Varian turned as someone entered the room. A messenger wearing the tabard of Stormwind. He was young, almost Anduin's age. Wrathion's teeth clenched as he was reminded of the prince.

“Your highness! There's been news.” The boy brought the message to Varian who took it and read. Wrathion nearly lunged around the table to approach the King.

“What is it?”

Varian's hand lowered and his eyes met the dragon's. “She said that Anduin never even met her for the portal.”

“What?”

“He never met the mage in the Shrine for his portal here. She waited almost an hour and when he didn't appear she went looking. He wasn't in his room. No one's seen him since last night.”

The room was silent. Wrathion continued to stare at the King who turned to look at his advisors.

“We will send out a search party immediately.”

“A search party?” the Black Prince hissed. “It's _Pandaria_ we're talking about.”

“What do you suggest I do?” Varian turned, his voice cold and flat. “Wait?”

Wrathion felt a headache coming on, but he tried to keep his voice smooth. “My agents are positioned throughout the continent. I can send one of my agents to guide yours-”

“I don't need your agents.”

“Let me aide you. Prince Anduin is my _friend_ , as I've told you before.”

Varian crossed his arms over his chest. “Your agent will only get in the way.” He turned to the messenger. “I want you to take a portal to the Shrine. Find Kelsanyr Nightshade of SI:7 and notify her that everyone stationed at the Shrine is to be questioned of the prince's last known whereabouts.”

“Yes, sire,” the boy bowed and hurried from the room.

Varian looked to his advisors. “I want a message sent to Dalaran. Lady Proudmoore may be able to aide us.”

Wrathion was rubbing his chin. The King had insulted him by refusing his help, but he would not sit passively. He turned to Left and Right.

“I want all of my Blacktalons on the look out in Pandaria,” he told Right.

“Of course your, Majesty,” the woman bowed her head and left the room so that she could concentrate on delivering her message via a blood crystal.

“I will find out who is responsible for this,” the Black Prince told Left. “Someone _must_ have known the Prince was planning to take a portal back here. I suspect we may find answers at the Shrine. Have my Blacktalons question _every_ mage on site.”

“Yes, your Majesty.” With that, Wrathion turned and swept from the room, followed by Left who glanced back to see the King watching them leave.


	4. Cruelty and Cunning

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Andrew makes a desperate attempt at escape. Back in Stormwind, Wrathion works to locate the missing prince.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry about the slow update!   
> Warnings for this chapter: Misgendering, violence, implied sexual abuse.

Andrew opened his eyes, blinking. He winced against the bruising of his right eye. It was dark in the room. For a moment, he felt lost and disoriented, until he remembered where he was. He tensed and looked over his shoulder. He was alone in the bed at least.

Sagging against the pillow, he found that only one of his wrists was manacled to the bed post, allowing him to lie on his side. Worst of all, he was naked.

He slowly sat up, shuddering. His body felt grimy, especially his mouth and chest.

He remembered Wallis's voice dampened with lust urging him and closed his eyes tightly in disgust. Andrew wiped his mouth with the back of his hand again, wishing for water to drink.

Tears came to his eyes but he wiped them away. He would make his captor pay somehow.

Looking out at the balcony, he realized the doors to it were wide open. He looked back to his manacled wrist and began to tug, quietly and carefully. Sitting up on the bed, he looked up, over the head of the bed, to peek into the darkness at the chain wrapped around the tall bed post. The chain was far too thick and strong and unless he had something to saw it with there was no way he was going to break it. He looked up at the end of the post. It might be possible to lift the chain up over the end of the post since it was looped around it...

He climbed up onto the head of the bed, straddling it, and grabbed on to the post. Carefully stepping up onto the headboard, which wobbled, he managed to kneel on it. Slowly, he slipped the chain loop around the post up toward the end of it, having to stand. 

Excitement bloomed in his chest as he managed to slip it over the end of the post. Free!

He grinned for a moment, mentally mocking the negligence of his captors. He climbed down from the head board and walked off the edge of the bed, moving carefully in the darkness toward the balcony.

Holding his chain so it didn't make any noise, he stood on the balcony and peered over the side. To his surprise, there weren't any guards posted on the balcony. Wallis was incredibly stupid.

Still, he was high enough off the ground that getting down would be tricky. Jumping could prove fatal.

Unless of course, he managed to jump into the water.

It actually didn't look too far, but he decided it was too risky. Even if he did manage to reach the water, there was the possibility of making noise and Light even knew what might be in that water at night. It would be pretty embarrassing to escape only to be eaten by a shark.

He remembered Wallis's dark promises to make him enjoy it and the man's hands moving all over his body and decided being eaten by a shark would probably be better.

He looked over at the rest of the auction house's roof. Did Wallis own the auction house? It would explain his wealth. How influential could he be?

Andrew felt a twinge in his chest as he remembered Jinx. His friend who had promised to help him, then stood there as he was carried away. No, it wasn't fair to judge the goblin. He couldn't help that there were two men stronger than him who worked for some rich monster.

He had to help himself here, now.

He headed back into the room to grab his pants from the floor. A naked boy couldn't very well sneak around after all. It took a few moments to find his pants and slip into them.

Moving over to the side of the balcony, he decided that his best bet was to try and jump down to the edge of the auction house roof. From there, he might be able to jump down to the boardwalk.

And then? He sighed, his shoulders sagging. He would still be hunted. Where would he go? He didn't even know _who_ he was.

'Well anywhere is better than here,' he thought, pulling himself up onto the ledge of the balcony. He took a deep breath and jumped down to the roof below, making sure to bend his knees as he landed.

He grunted as a pain shot through his ankle. After sitting up and rocking for a few moments, gripping his leg, he managed to turn his foot and found the ankle not broken. Well thank the Light for small mercies!

Slowly, he stood up, grimacing. His chain had rattled when he jumped, and someone might have heard him landing on the roof. Time to move! 

Andrew tried to step as quietly as possible over the roof. The shingles under his feet felt pretty solid and the angle of the roof wasn't too steep. He held his breath as he felt one of the shingles wobble under his feet. Pausing, he waited, then stepped over it. 

He had just reached the edge of the roof when something struck him from behind. The back of his head exploded in pain as his knees crumpled.

“Ughh!”

“Going somewhere?” a voice snickered near his ear. He was shoved down to his hands and knees and someone grabbed him by the hair. He lifted his hands to grapple with the hand in his hair when he heard more movement nearby.

“Grab him!”

He cursed them and tried to fight, but his arms were grasped and pulled behind him. Someone in the darkness slapped him hard across the face.

“Wallis's not gonna be happy about this,” someone giggled. “Shoulda stayed put, boy."

“Damn you!” he shouted in frustration and a kick in his stomach answered him, causing him to groan and crumple over.

He was dragged, then shoved to a trap door and down a ladder, nearly falling to the floor below. Figures appeared above him, slipping down the ladder to land nimbly and he was dragged up by his arms again.

“Look at him, trying to run away in chains!”

“Damn near naked too.”

There were snickers as he was shoved out of the room and down a hallway. Despair filled his chest. He would be punished for trying to escape. Andrew contemplated trying to fight and run, but it would be foolish now. He would just be beaten more.

One of the guards knocked on a door and a few moments later, a half asleep Wallis appeared.

“He tried to sneak out, lordship,” the boy was thrown to his knees in front of the “Lord” Wallis, who was wearing a linen robe that fell open to reveal his chest, and pants.

“Are you kidding me?” he groaned, half asleep. “Put him in the damn closet or something. I'll deal with him in the morning.” The door was closed and the guards laughed. Hauling Andrew up, they shoved him along the hall and into a room, slamming the door after him.

“Like to see him escape from that one!” someone called.

He found himself in what he guessed to be a storeroom as he'd landed on what felt like a bag of potatoes. It was dark, so he couldn't quite tell. Cursing, he punched the bag below him.

Perfect. Just perfect. Why hadn't he guessed there would be guards on the roof!

* * *

 

A few hours later, the door opened, light from the hall making him cringe. Sore, bruised, and stiff from falling asleep on a bag of potatoes, he slowly stood up. He heard a scoff just before he was grabbed by the arm. It was the bearded man again.

“Fel damn it, boy. You've only made more trouble for yourself.” He was ushered along the hallway, limping. “Wallis doesn't seem too upset though. Maybe if you play sorry, he'll go easy on you.”

“How can you do this?” Andrew asked him. “Even if you're loyal to him-”

“My reasons are none of your business, boy. Just make life easier on yourself, hm?”

Andrew shook his head, his blue eyes hard. He was silent the rest of the way as he was lead up a flight of stairs and back to the room he'd first encountered his cruel new master in.

Wallis was sitting at a table this time, talking to a well dressed goblin. The goblin looked up as Jensen pushed Andrew in. 

“Ah... One of my wily employees. If you'll excuse us,” he looked to the goblin who nodded to him then stood and gave Andrew barely a glance before leaving.

“One of the Trade Prince's fellows,” Wallis smiled at him coldly. “So Princess... sleep well?”

Andrew was quiet. He decided that he was just not going to say anything.

“Sit down.” Wallis gestured toward a chair across the table from him. Andrew hesitated, then walked over to it and slowly sat. “Hungry?” The older man gestured to some bread on the table.

“No, thank you.” Andrew cleared his throat.

“Thirsty, probably.” Wallis smirked and Andrew looked away in disgust, his cheeks burning. “Jensen, bring the princess here some water.”

A mug of water was placed in front of Andrew a few moments later. He picked it up and was about to drink when Wallis grabbed it from him.

“What do you say, princess?”

Andrew swallowed. He spoke in a flat tone.

“May I please have some water.”

“May I please have some water, _sir_.”

“May I please... have some water, sir?” He didn't know where this odd ability to hide his feelings came from, but it was certainly satisfying to deny the monster what he wanted.

“Good boy.” Wallis set the water in front of him and Andrew took it quickly, drinking all of it. He sighed when he finished and avoided looking at the man across from him, his eyes on the table.

“I already have an interested customer for you, Princess.”

A customer. Andrew's blood ran cold.

“Some elf says you caught his eye. He's been asking about you. Wants to buy you from me.” He laughed. “I told him you were just _too_ valuable to me. I mean... all the money I'm going to make off of you?” Wallis shook his head, chuckling. “He could never pay enough. No one could.”

The boy looked out at the balcony, watching the way the morning sun touched the floor. He swallowed again. Wallis reached forward and tapped him, hard on the cheek, causing him to glare at the man.

“Pay attention to me when I speak, boy.” he said softly. “Do you understand me?”

Andrew nodded. Wallis smiled.

“I'm going to train you...” the man sucked in between his teeth. “Last night was a rough start, but you'll learn. You're going to be legendary in this town.”

The boy was silent.

“I think you'll have something to eat, Princess. And then I'll get you cleaned up. I can't have you stinking like a _whore_.” He smirked.

The word burned Andrew's skin, but he remained quiet, finding it much easier to concentrate on the grain of the wood in the table. His finger followed one of the wavy lines. The table was shoved, bumping him in the chest and he looked up.

“Did you hear me, princess?”

“Yes, sir,” he said quietly, keeping his face and his tone neutral.

“Good boy.” Wallis rose from his chair and walked around the table. Andrew tensed as the man came to stand behind him. “I love your nice, straight posture.” A hand settled on the back of his neck. “I'm not really much into boys, but... you are something special, princess.” The hand slid up into his hair, a thumb flicking his ear. Chills went down his back and he was reminded of the night before, lying helpless on his back.

“You're going to make your master a lot of money,” the man whispered in his ear and he tensed, turning his face away and trying to focus on the wood grain again.

 

When Wallis left the room, he sagged forward in his chair, his finger still tracing the wood. The table was quite smooth and shined to a gloss. He wondered if someone had painted something clear over and what they had used. He remained still as food was brought and placed before him, not even looking up to see who brought it, not even noticing what it was.

He was ordered to eat by the bearded man, Jensen, and he obeyed, woodenly putting bread and cheese in his mouth and chewing. He didn't feel hungry. Just very tired.

Next he was pushed into the room from the night before and he looked away from the bed. Jensen ordered him to strip, pointing to a tub full of water. Andrew swallowed against his panic as he slid his pants down, but to his relief, his guard didn't touch him. Stepping into the water, he gasped at how warm it was and slowly lowered himself in.

He sat hunched over in the water, his knees drawn up to his chest, and wrapped his arms around them. A rag landed in the water, causing some of it to splash bubbles onto his hair and cheek. He heard Jensen order him to clean himself up.

Turning to rest his cheek on his knee, he grabbed the rag and moved it slowly, rubbing it against his leg. It was strange, but somehow he felt very far away, as if he could barely even feel the rag.

* * *

 

“We must first be sure that this is not an internal plot,” the Black Prince mused to his agent at his room in Stormwind castle. He sat at the desk, leaning forward with a hand pressed to his lips, his elbow supporting him.

“We will have to observe the House of Nobles,” the human woman said, sitting on the edge of the bed with her legs crossed. Her blonde wavy hair was cut to mid neck.

“Exactly.” Wrathion nodded, sitting back in his chair. “But who?”

She looked off quietly for a few moments. Wrathion waited, knowing better than to interrupt her, despite the urgency bursting in his chest.

Anduin. Missing.

Anduin Wrynn, possibly dead already. Or a victim of torture.

“The house of Marlin has always had one complaint or another against the Wrynns.”

“But are they vehement enough in their complaints to justify suspicion?”

The woman, nicknamed Pearl, leaned back, her palms supporting her. She was a native of Stormwind, of a well to do family, and thus his most valuable source of information.

“The youngest son recently accused the king of favoring foreign interests. Primarily those of Gilneas.”

“Then wouldn't he attack _Gilneans?_ ”

She shrugged.

“Think. Is there anyone else...?”

“Someone removes the heir of Stormwind because they aspire to assume control. Or make way for others. Edgar Marlin and Aedan Pallas were both close friends of Edwin VanCleef, even if they have made every effort to distance themselves in the years since the riot that killed the queen.”

Wrathion nodded, stroking his chin.

“You are having them watched?”

“Yes, your Majesty.”

“Anything suspicious of late?”

Pearl sighed. “No. Nothing out of the ordinary.”

Wrathion swore.

“We _must_ dig deeper. We _must_ rule out an internal plot. Stormwind has _always_ been victim to those most trusted within its walls.”

“Yes, your Majesty.”

“Come to me when you have something.”

She rose and bowed, then left silently. Wrathion pushed his hands up into his hair, gripping it.

Anduin Wrynn smiling at him across a board game. The blonde prince pale in death.

'Stop torturing yourself,' he thought as he rubbed at his face. 'He's probably all cheerful somewhere, coddling Pandaren children or something.'

He knew better though. Anduin would never be so forgetful as to leave his father wondering and waiting.  Unless he was incapable of sending a message.

He was just being haunted by the image of the prince stepping into a portal leading to his demise when the door opened.

“Your Majesty?” Left stood in the doorway.

“What?” he snapped, standing with such force that he knocked his chair back. 'You'd _better_ have something,' he thought.

She stepped in and shut the door behind her.

“A pandaren man at the shrine mentioned sighting the prince taking a portal.”

“Yes?”

“He seemed to recall the mage as being human and possibly female.”

“ _Possibly_ female?”

“He described the robes the mage wore to us and their build. We had him sketch out the suspect and are circulating the details among all agents.”

“Well it's _something_ at least!” Even if it was a vague description, just the details on the mage's robes might be helpful. “Did he see where the mage went?”

“He said that she followed him through the portal.”

Wrathion swore.

“Does the king know of this?”

Left shook her head and handed him a rolled parchment.

“I just came from the Shrine.”

Wrathion grinned as he took it.

“This is why _you're_ my favorite. Ah, but don't tell Right I said that.”

She snorted.

 

Varian Wrynn scowled over the parchment at the smug dragon prince. His eyes still gleamed with suspicion, but Wrathion would quell that soon.

“I suspect an internal plot.”

“SI:7 has already ruled that out.”

“Oh _have_ they?” Wrathion crossed his arms over his chest, a scowl on his face.

“There's no one in this city with the motivation-”

“Don't be ridiculous!”

“You mean to tell _me_ who to suspect, dragon?”

Wrathion wanted to roll his eyes when the king stepped up to him, even if he was intimidated.

“I'm telling you that an internal plot cannot yet be successfully ruled out!”

“Oh? Why not?”

“There are _plenty_ of people in this city with the motivation to desire and implement a plan to remove the heir to the throne.”

He almost regretted his words when the king seemed to flinch.

“The prince is most valuable alive.”

'We hope,' Wrathion thought bitterly.

“If it _is_ an intended ransom," he said. "Then it would work to your advantage to check your own backyard first _anyway_.”

“Do you have an idea _where_  I should check, wyrm? Better than my agents who have been keeping an eye on possible suspects for such a plot for _years?_ "

'Under my turban,' he wanted to say, but he knew better than to test Varian Wrynn's patience at a moment like this.

“My agents are likewise checking suspects.”

The king bristled. “I will not have your _agents_ crawling through my city-”

“Curious, one would almost think you aren't that intent on finding-”

“Don't you _dare question_ -” the king cut off his own roar, closing his eyes and taking a deep breath. His hands, which had risen as if to grasp at Wrathion clenched into fists. When he opened his eyes they were eerily calm.

“I have told you already that my people are at work _and_ -” he held up a hand when Wrathion opened his mouth to reply. “I will _not_ allow my citizenry to be spied on and searched by the goons of a black dragon, no matter how well intentioned.”

Wrathion literally fumed, smoke pouring from his nostrils.

“Very well.” He said, nodding, then turning away. “I won't have my agents spy on your citizenry. Fortunately you don't control the rest of the world.”

He lifted his chin and left the room. Varian watched him with a narrowed gaze as he left.

 

“Do you want us to withdraw?” Left asked him as she followed him back to his room. Wrathion shook his head. He said nothing more until they were alone again behind the closed door of the guest quarters.

“I told the king I would not have my _agents_ spy on his citizenry.” He smirked. “I said nothing about _champions_.”

 


	5. Regret and Reconnaissance

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Andrew finds temporary comfort in a stranger, while Wrathion mobilizes his champions.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I always drag my feet about updating things.

Andrew was taken downstairs after dressing. He tugged at the shirt he'd been given, trying to cover more of his belly with it. It was far too short and exposed his navel. It looked more like something a woman would wear; a woman wanting to charm a man in a bedroom. It was a deep red and matched the pants he'd been given, which were long and had slits up the side of the legs. He wouldn't even call them pants, really. He shuddered as he walked through the halls, catching the sounds of snickers. It felt as though the walls themselves had eyes at times because he would hear whispers when he saw no one around.

'It was stupid of me to ever think I could just walk out of this place,' he thought bitterly. Naturally someone like Wallis would have a hundred expert spies working for him.

“Here,” Jensen pointed to a set of double doors. One was open, leading into a room. At a small table, a high elf sat with several bolts of cloth and a needle. He looked up and Andrew stared.

“Come in,” the elf called, standing and setting his work down. His voice was gentle, which only made Andrew even more nervous.

Crossing his arms over his chest, he entered the room. Jensen entered and closed the door behind them.

Andrew was surprised to find that the elf had brown eyes. His hair was pale gold and very long, falling past his shoulders, his face the eternally youthful portrait of a quel'dorei.

“What's your name, boy?”

“Andrew.”

The elf nodded and smiled a little, almost sympathetically. “There's no need to be afraid.”

The boy lowered his eyes, brows rising as if to say 'Yeah right.'

“My name is Gildaran. I've served Lord Wallis for years now,” he sighed. “You don't have to be afraid of me, child. He didn't send you here to hurt you.”

Gildaran's thin fingers reached forward to gently tug at Andrew's shirt, as if adjusting it. He froze and the elf's hands settled lightly on his forearms.

“I'm not going to touch you.”

Andrew lowered his arms after a moment, frowning.

“I know this isn't easy. But it's your life now.”

The boy shook his head.

“It won't be,” his voice wobbled.

Gildaran merely eyed him sadly then began to look him over with another sigh.

“You have a wonderful frame. This color looks very nice on you.”

“I don't like it.”

“What colors do you like?”

Andrew glared at the floor.

“It doesn't matter.”

“Mm... Well you might as well like what you're wearing.” Gildaran sighed. “Your hair is a mess. You didn't wash it, did you?”

“I didn't know I was supposed to,” Andrew grumbled.

Gildaran was silent for a moment, then turned to head over to his sowing table again.

“Lord Wallis wants you to be trained as a courtesan-”

“No.”

“I'm afraid you don't get to say no anymore..”

“I don't care!” his lips trembled. “I won't let _anyone_ touch me!”

Gildaran sighed.

“It's much better if you make this easier on yourself,” the brown eyes gazed into his. “I was like you once. Remember that what you resist you only make stronger.”

Andrew frowned. Something about that phrase resounded in his mind. He saw a bear. No, a man – a Pandaren. The Pandaren was saying something to him but he wasn't sure what it was.

“You have to fight back,” he argued. “Or they win.”

“They're going to win anyway, young one. It's much easier if you just give them what they want.”

“I won't. I'm not a...”

Gildaran raised his eyebrows. “A street walker? No, you're going to be a courtesan. That's much better, believe me. I've been both,” he smiled a little, picking up his stitching and turning it over to inspect something. As Andrew watched, he leaned closer to a small, floating crystal over his table.

“Your eyes aren't green. Or blue,” the boy said.

“No,” the elf smiled. “I'm rather special. I'm a quarter human.”

“Oh.”

“Mm hmm.”

“But your ears are tall.”

“Indeed. My grandfather was from Lordaeron.” He sighed. “Many years ago, now.” He smiled at Andrew. “You're rather special as well, I'm told.”

“Not really,” Andrew frowned, looking down at his feet. He couldn't even fight. He was weak.

“We'll put ointment on your bruises, I think.” The elf set his needle work down once more and walked over to a shelf. Andrew tensed, eyeing the round, draped bed in the room.

“I thought you said you wouldn't touch me.”

Gildaran grabbed a small vial from a shelf and walked over to the bed, sitting down and patting it.

“I'm only going to put ointment on you.”

Andrew tensed all the same.

“I just want to put this on your bruises. We can't have you blue and purple.”

The boy's shoulders sagged and he slowly walked over to sit on the bed, scowling at the floor. He looked as if he was steeling himself for the elf's touch. Gildaran sighed once more and began to rub ointment on his hands.

“I can't reach your side like this. Turn toward me.” He waved a finger in a circle. Andrew obeyed. His arms rested loosely at his sides as he allowed the elf to access his ribs, his teeth clenching slightly.

“Never give them a reason,” Gildaran said softly, looking up at him. “They relish the chance.”

“I didn't,” Andrew glared at him.

“Your skin tells me a different story.”

“ _They_ did this to me.”

“You can ensure that it doesn't happen again by obeying.”

“You said they'd do whatever they wanted.”

Gildaran frowned.

“You said,” Andrew clarified. “It doesn't matter and that they'll win anyway.”

“Your... clients will not be allowed to harm you. They will touch you. The guards are not allowed to touch you. But they are allowed to punish you.”

“That makes no sense.”

“It makes perfect sense. People have to pay a lot of gold to touch you that way.”

“They should pay to hit me too,” he mumbled and Gildaran smiled slightly.

“I don't think you really want that.”

“I'm going to make them pay for it.”

“Look toward me,” he gently put a hand on Andrew's chin, guiding his face to Gildaran's. The elf admired his features for a moment along with his bright blue eyes, then began to apply the ointment to his face.

“That looks like the handiwork of his lordship,” the elf noted with a sigh. “I wouldn't cross him.”

“It was one of the guards,” Andrew mumbled. “They caught me on the roof.”

“Mm. Daring of you. But I wouldn't advise trying it again. They get... more rough each time. They're encouraged to.”

Andrew swallowed, looking curiously at the elf. Perhaps it was his imagination but Gildaran seemed to flinch as he spoke. The boy relaxed under the elf's ministrations. He realized that this close up, he could see the very faint line of a scar over Gildaran's left eyebrow. Otherwise, the elf's skin seemed flawless.

“Any other bruises?” Gildaran looked him over, peering at his legs.

“I think I'm fine,” he murmured in response.

“There's one on your arm here,” the pale brows furrowed and he wiped ointment into the blonde's left arm. Andrew tensed, jolting slightly.

“Sorry,” he said.

“No worries,” the elf glanced at his face then continued rubbing the ointment in. Andrew glanced toward Jensen, then looked down at his own feet. The building was oddly silent and he wondered what time of day it was. From the daylight outside Gildaran's window, he guessed it to be early afternoon.

“It should all fade within the next day or so,” Gildaran stood, closing the vial and walking over to set it back on the shelf. He cleaned his hands off in a basin on a pedestal, then turned back to Andrew. There was a troubled expression in his eyes that made the boy stiffen again.

“His lordship has entrusted me to educate you on some things.”

Andrew's eyes were hooded, his jaw setting. The elf frowned.

“I will not make it unpleasant,” he stepped forward, moving to sit on the bed beside him again.

“Is this where you touch me?”

The boy's blue eyes were surprisingly cold. Gildaran was no stranger to hard looks, especially not from young prostitutes. It was a rough life and innocence didn't last long. But these eyes held something different from what he usually saw in the despondent youths who came under his care. There was a challenge in Andrew's eyes, an accusation he wasn't used to.

“Child-”

“You're going to touch me?”

“Lord Wallis... does not do 'gentle' well. As I'm sure you've noticed he lacks the sort of bedside manner expected of our kind,” Gildaran's lips curled in a bitter smile. It faded with his next words. “Your options are myself and his lordship. I may be biased, but I suggest you do not leave it to him.”

“Fine,” Andrew spat, turning his head away.

Gildaran wasn't sure he'd ever seen such an attitude from a boy so young. His back straightened as the elf watched, and his chin lifted. Boys had tried to play the stoic under his touch, but they were usually brittle. This boy had a pride to him that made the elf wonder.

Gildaran looked to Jensen.

“Do you mind?”

“My orders are to keep my eyes on the boy.”

The elf sighed. “Can't you guard from the other side of the door?”

The bearded man scowled, gave Andrew a warning look, then stepped out.

“If you would like to relax and lie down-”

“I'm fine like this.”

Gildaran held back another sigh.

“Very well...” The elf dropped to his knees, moving between the boy's legs.

“What are you-”

“Pay attention. I'm only doing this once.” Gildaran's eyes locked on his as he began to tug at the laces on Andrew's breeches. The boy tensed and drew his knees together, but Gildaran put his hand on the boy's thighs, gently pressing them apart.

“I am not going to hurt you. I promise.”

The boy huffed at his words, but Gildaran saw that they had an effect. The blue eyes softened though they still turned away, and Andrew relaxed his legs again. Gildaran slowly slipped the laces free, causing the boy to look down eventually. Andrew blushed as he realized that the brown eyes were on his face.

Gildaran slid his hands down the boy's thighs, then up again, causing him to tense slightly.

“You can lie back if you like.”

“No, thank you.”

The elf shrugged and finally loosened the front of Andrew's trousers. The boy's hands gripped his own legs awkwardly, tense. He had no underpants on.

Andrew looked down into a warm brown gaze that moved down over his throat and chest, then back up to his eyes again. He dropped his jaw when he realized the elf had slid a slender hand over his privates. His thighs tightened and he grit his teeth, hands clenching on his thighs. No one had ever...

Well, not no one. Wallis.

He looked away, swallowing. Then tensed, his feet moving up on his toes as he felt fingers sliding down into his pants to cup his cock and gently tug it up. He made a soft noise.

“There we are...” Gildaran murmured. “This will be much better if you lie back.”

Andrew rolled his eyes, then turned his head away from the door and slowly lie back. He trembled, his hands moving to rest on his stomach, waiting.

Gildaran moved up onto his knees, settling himself between the boy's thighs as he massaged them with expert hands.

“Close your eyes if you like. Relax.”

Andrew shook his head the tiniest bit, then closed his eyes, taking a deep, shuddery breath. A few moments later, he felt the hands creeping toward his groin. One slid up over his belly, making him gasp softly while the other grasped his cock.

His body shifted minutely as one hand massaged his stomach. He hadn't realized how tense he was until Gildaran began to touch him. The other hand slowly pumped him until he was hard and his cheeks burned. He was glad he'd listened when the elf told him to close his eyes.

“Is that good?”

“Yes.”

A moment later, he felt soft blonde hair sliding against his thighs and belly and a groan slipped from his lips. His fingers dug tighter into the bed. Soft, warm breaths brushed against his stomach, down to his groin and he opened one eye to see the elf's head lowering toward his groin. Both of his eyes opened and his lips parted as gentle hands lifted his cock, pulling it back against his stomach to present the underside. Andrew lifted his head to watch as a pink tongue slowly lapped at his skin.

His jaw dropped, his breaths coming quickly and more shallowly. The brown eyes glanced almost shyly up at him and he blushed, closing his mouth and looking away again.

Gildaran smiled as he licked slowly around the head, pulling the foreskin back. Then his mouth closed over the shaft and the boy gasped, his back arching.

Andrew gripped the bed, his eyes shutting tightly.

_He was lying in his room in the tavern, trying to be quiet as he stroked himself. Pleasure tingled up his groin and he bit his lower lip. Wrathion. He thought of the smooth, dark skin, the eyes that glowed like coals, the sharp smile that he could never be sure of..._

Andrew sat up, gasping, his hips bucking out of his control. Gildaran gagged, then held his hips down and chuckled as he took the boy's cock deep in his throat.

Andrew bit his lip as he came to stifle his own cry, his face flushing. He looked down at his groin as he realized the elf was swallowing his seed. Then the brown eyes were meeting his again and the courtesan spoke.

“They like it when you swallow.”

The words made him flinch and he looked down.

Gildaran rose, shaking out his robes, and sat next to Andrew on the bed. The young man tensed up again, watching him nervously.

“Now that I've shown you a little of what a man likes, do you think you could imitate that?”

Andrew sighed and lie back against the bed, looking up at the ceiling.

“Maybe.”

“I want you to try on me.” Gildaran began to open the front of his robes, sliding them down over bare, lean shoulders.

“What!” Andrew sat up, bringing his knees together to hide himself. “No!”

The elf lifted a brow at him, his gaze gentle.

“You must begin at some point. I'd advise sooner than later. Come on. You can sit up or you can go on your knees like I did.”

“No,” Andrew groaned, lowering his head to his knees. “ _Please_ , I don't want to.”

Gildaran sighed.

“Please. Later?”

“Very well.” He rose from the bed. Andrew looked up to see that the elf was wearing pants like his, and that without the robe on he was shirtless. His body had little muscle and his skin was pale, with a few scars on his back. Gildaran didn't have the robust physique of the blood knight who harrassed Andrew the day before, but he did look as though he took care of himself. As he watched, the elf stretched, his arms toward the ceiling.

“We can talk about other ways of pleasing men then.” Gildaran spoke at last, turning to smile at him a little. “For instance, the way you act and speak. Go ahead and put your pants back on.”

Andrew gladly obeyed, quickly standing to slide his pants back up over his hips, then lacing them.

“I want you to pretend I'm a client.”

Andrew eyed him uncomfortably. He straightened his back and lifted his chin.

“What do you want, sir?” his eyes were on the floor.

Gildaran smiled slightly. “You're in a brothel, not a military barracks. Come,” he gestured for the boy to come closer. Andrew obeyed hesitantly.

“I'll pretend you are the client. Now watch.” The boy nodded. Gildaran lifted his hands to slide them up Andrew's chest and he blushed. The elf grinned as he leaned in to whisper into Andrew's ear.

“Where shall we start, my lord?”

The boy actually scoffed, tickled by the elf's breath. Gildaran laughed.

“They like it when you call them that sometimes. Make them feel in control.”

He watched as the boy's blue eyes dropped to the floor again.

“I know that you're frightened, but you can't let that paralyze you. You have to keep going. Remember – if you do as you are told you have nothing to fear.”

'Bull,' Andrew thought, but he nodded. Something told him that no matter how he acted there was the likelihood of getting hurt.

The elf took his chin in his fingers and lifted it and Andrew blushed at the look in his eyes.

“You can look them in the eyes. You're not yet as tall as some of your clients, so you can make them feel taller by looking up at them. You can put your hands on their waist, like this...” He showed the boy and Andrew tensed at the feel of the cool hands on his waist.

“They may be... a bit rough. But I'll make sure they aren't at first.” Gildaran told him, sliding his hand up into Andrew's hair to gently grip it and tug it. Instantly, Andrew's hands went to the elf's shoulders, pushing slightly, his neck going rigid.

“How can you stop them? If they decide to hurt me?”

“You are still new and that Lord Wallis will be displeased if you are injured. No one in this town will go against his wishes. He is in the Trade Prince's favor.”

“It isn't right,” Andrew mumbled.

Gildaran was quiet, stroking fingers through his hair.

“Next, you can try kissing them.”

Andrew rolled his eyes, knowing it was immature, but he couldn't help it. It was all wrong and disgusting and the elf just wanted to teach him how to pleasure some pervert!

“Do you know how to kiss?” Gildaran tilted his head to the side, smiling slightly.

“Of course I do,” he blurted, not knowing why it was so important that the elf know.

“Then show me.”

Andrew puckered his lips slightly and leaned in to press them against the taller man's. Gildaran slid one hand up behind the boy's back and the other in his hair, pulling him closer and deepening the kiss, causing Andrew to tense again.

He pulled away, tears in his eyes.

“Who was your first kiss?”

Andrew's lips trembled.

“Wallis... I don't know.”

“You don't remember?”

“No.”

“It may have been someone else,” the elf said softly.

“What if it wasn't?” Andrew looked up at him, sight blurring. Surprisingly strong arms pulled him into a hug and rubbed his back. At first he was tense, but then he relaxed.

“I know you hate this. But you really must try.”

 

* * *

 

Wrathion sighed, rubbing the bridge of his nose.

“Why are none of these idiot nobles available?” he demanded of the orc woman at his side. She rolled her eyes.

“They are cowards, Majesty. Clearly avoiding you.”

“I _will_ speak to them.”

They were standing outside of Stormwind Castle. The dragon didn't feel entirely 'welcome' in the keep, which he considered insulting as he was Prince Anduin's _best friend_. Even Anduin had admitted to his father that they were close. Was it really so difficult for the idiot king to just accept that Wrathion had his son's best interests in mind? The Alliance, he reflected, could not be more ungrateful.

“Perhaps your Majesty should persuade them there will be riches involved,” Left smirked.

The red eyes widened and he grinned after a moment.

“Excellent idea, Left!” He clapped his hands. “But I can't go sending them new letters when they turned my first invitations down.”

She cleared her throat and nodded at something past his shoulder.

He turned to see a pair of Alliance champions watching him curiously – a draenei paladin and a human death knight. Smiling, he turned to wave them over.

“Ah, champions! Excellent! I have a favor to ask of you...”

The two looked to eachother for a moment, then to Wrathion. Simultaneously, they began to walk over to the Black Prince, whose grin widened.

 

* * *

 

“Hey! Hey Ashley!” The priestess turned, narrowing her eyes. She'd been leaving the barbershop and was headed to the auction house in Stormwind when she heard someone call her name.

A moment later, a grinning face appeared from the tunnel leading to the canals.

“Ugh. Robert! Dork!” she rolled her eyes and continued walking, but she was smiling.

“Hey, wait up!”

Robert urged his charger forward, avoiding a pair of children running by. He remembered the days when children would run away as soon as they saw him. Now they barely gave his subtly glowing form a glance. He shook his head as he sidled up to his friend.

“What are you up to now?” the priestess asked him. He grinned.

“The Black Prince is here in Stormwind!”

“What?” her eyes bulged. “No way! Is he...”

“Seeking 'champions?' Yep!” The death knight practically bounced on his charger with glee. “Maybe he's got some good stuff on him.”

“Better than what he had in Pandaria? I doubt it. What does he want? Did you ask him?”

“He wants us to follow some nobles around.”

“Sounds pretty lame.”

“Incredibly lame. But he's offering gold! I think Prince Anduin's missing.”

“ _Again?_ ” she stared.

“Shh!” he hissed as a night elf turned to eye them curiously. “I don't know. I mean, I _think_ he's missing. Sounds like somebody important's been kidnapped and Wrathion's looking around. Anyway, what do you say we group up? Taldaara and I are already in. We could get Bridgie and Cat to come along.”

“Okay. But let me stop by the auction house first.”

* * *

 

A large black wildcat and a gnome woman meanwhile sat outside of the Blue Recluse. The gnome woman sat at a table while the cat rested on top of it. The gnome sighed as she scribbled away in a leather journal.

It looked like a panther by all accounts, but it had druidic symbols painted on its fur. It's ear turned to the tower ahead of the tavern and a moment later, it opened an eye. The panther's head lifted, both eyes opening and the gnome looked up.

“What is it?”

He sat up, then transformed into a young elf. His hair was wild, light blue and his face was smooth; he couldn't have been more than a couple centuries of age.

“I think it's Rob. He looks excited about something.”

 

* * *

 

Meanwhile, Wrathion noticed that each time his first two champions returned, they brought friends with them. It seemed Wrathion's reputation in Pandaria was reasserting itself here in Stormwind. The Black Prince smiled, welcoming a human priestess and a death knight, followed by a gnome mage and a kal'dorei druid.

“More champions! Well, the more the merrier. I have a favor to ask. You see, someone of great importance to me has gone missing.”

The champions eyed each other. Wrathion frowned with discomfort as the death knight nodded to the priestess, elbowing her. The priestess elbowed him back sharply and rolled her eyes.

The Black Prince cleared his throat, giving the death knight a glare as he continued speaking.

“I suspect that there are those here in Stormwind who are directly responsible. But to prove the existence of any sort of plot, I must have evidence. I sent out letters to a list of nobles but they haven't responded. I'm grow weary of waiting despite my great patience.”

His eyes narrowed at the druid's smirk. The gnome mage raised her hand.

“Excuse me, Black Prince? Who is this we're searching for?”

Wrathion resisted the urge to roll his eyes. He glanced at each of them, burning eyes weighty with judgement. Finally he sighed and leaned in. Almost unconsciously, the others leaned in expectantly.

“Very well. You _must_ keep this a secret.”

“I thought you said 'the more, the merrier,'” the death knight interrupted. Wrathion gave him a look, an exhale escaping his lips loudly.

“Unless it's absolutely necessary to your mission, you must keep silent on this matter!” Wrathion straightened. “The prince has gone missing.”

“Pfft!” The druid said. “He does that all the time.”

He didn't flinch at the glares directed his way.

“It's true,” he shrugged a shoulder, sharing a glance with the death knight who nodded in agreement.

“This time is different. This time... a kidnapper is involved.”

“That's actually not that different-”

“Robert, _shut up!_ ”

“What! He was kidnapped when he was ten!”

A silence filled the air followed by the death knight's sigh.

“I have the list of suspects for you here,” Wrathion tugged a scroll from his pocket and quickly handed it to the priestess, glaring at the death knight when he reached out for it. “I would suggest you divide your efforts. Do _not_ engage directly with the targets or you will endanger my mission. I need you to observe these men – and woman. Report any findings immediately to me. Is that understood?”

They all nodded in agreement, glancing to each other, then back to the Black Prince.

“Where should we find you?” the mage asked.

“I will be here at the castle. If you see any of my agents throughout the city, you may also ask them to direct you.”

“Hey, what do we get for this?”

“ _Robert!_ ”

“I'm just asking!”

“I will compensate you based on what information you find,” Wrathion lifted his chin, arms crossed over his chest again. “Should you find anything useful, you will be fully recompensed! Now get going!”

 

 

 


End file.
